This past week was one of the most heart-wrenching weeks I've experienced in quite some time. My 13 year-old female Golden Retriever had to be put to sleep. This comes on the heels of divorce, and comes right before what would have been the 16th wedding anniversary. A lot to take in during the span of a few weeks when emotions are running high.
As I prepared myself for the inevitable at the afternoon's vet appointment, I visited with my dear next door neighbor. He talked to me about any and everything to do with all topics e-x-c-e-p-t my sweet puppy's bad health. We laughed over stories about our children, and I thought I could handle what was to come. I was wrong.
As I lifted her up to carry her to the car, I let my male Golden sniff her. He knew. He licked and licked her face. He even tried to go with us. But, the worst was when I unloaded her from the car to go into the vet's office. She hung limp like a dishrag in my arms. Everyone in the waiting area knew. One woman even came over to give me a hug. I lost it. As I sat on a bench in the waiting room by myself holding my sweet Golden, I cried and cried. I couldn't stop crying.
As our names were called into the exam room, I mentally attempted to prepare myself for something I didn't know if I could handle. The vet and I discussed her health - and it was horrifying to learn she was so much worse than anticipated. She was literally dying a slow, painful death. I couldn't stand it. I wanted her to be free from pain but not free from my world. I couldn't have my cake and eat it, too.
I don't know how I managed to make it home that afternoon. I do know that I cried and cried in the exam room, at the front desk while paying for the visit, sitting in the car, and all the way to my parents' home to pick up my children. I even cried as I told my kids that our puppy was in heaven. The worst part? Coming home to find my male Golden looking for her. He searched the backyard, he wouldn't eat from her food bowl, and he paced the rooms, stopping in the sunroom to stare.
We all deal with grief in different ways. I attempted to teach my children that we can celebrate someone/something's life while still missing them terribly. The kids and I filled a shoe box with tennis balls that were her favorites as well as her collar. We wrapped the box in a bag and sealed it. We buried the box in the backyard under some plants and placed a squirrel statue my Dad had given us on top with a solar powered light to the side so we could see her memorial 'all through the day'. We then each said something about her and remembered her fondly.
How far will you go to celebrate someone or something that left a permanent impression on your heart? Will you go out of your way to help others affected to heal? Will you take the time on a beautiful Saturday morning to relive wonderful experiences with that person/thing and savor what was an important part of your life? Or will you just move on, not taking the time to deal and heal? What lengths will you go to so that you as well as those you love can learn that life (even in death) can have a silver lining?
My sweet puppy will always be remembered for her spunk, her loyalty, her mouthy, insistent bark, and her sweet disposition. Sounds like qualities the rest of us could use in order to navigate this world, doesn't it?
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